Love is a Battlefield
by AngryBitch
Summary: Post Hogwarts. What happens to the foursome when all adversity is defeated and life is returned to normal? They create more adversity, of course. Ronnikins and 'Mione, with bits of HarryGinny because I'm a bleeding heart romantic.
1. Every Time You Say Goodbye

I crouched down behind the tree stump, watching the scene unfold before my eyes. How had it come to this? Just an hour ago we'd all been happily sipping Butterbeers in the Leaky Cauldron, griping about Diviniation homework and gossiping about Nevile's latest Boggart of Snape wearing a tutu and Pansy Parkinson's latest beau. And now we were all facing the darkest wizard of all the ages. Harry had fallen to the ground; he wasn't moving. If he was dead- He couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. I didn't know what Voldemort had hit him with, but it hadn't been the killing curse. I could only hope that it hadn't been fatal. That he would be okay in the end... if this wasn't the end. The Death Eaters that had surrounded us when we'd first found our way onto the scene were long gone. I expected that whatever remained of them was halfway to China right now, after being showered with all the curses and hexes the three of us could have thought to throw at them. But four wizards, not even out of Hogwarts, couldn't face them and come out unscathed.  
  
Ginny had fallen as well. Her hand was clutching her stomach, and I saw blood seeping through her shirt. I knew she wouldn't last long without help, she was losing too much blood too fast. Not even I could do anything. Hermione Granger, smartest witch of her time couldn't help someone who needed it. Fat load of good my books were doing me now. But what was Ron doing? I watched as Ron rose from where he'd been kneeling at Harry's side. He looked grim, but his face was lined with anger, furious anger and.. Was that a tear? Was Ron crying? Was Harry... He couldn't be, Ron would have told me if... Harry was dead. Merlin's Ghost, where were the Aurors? Where was Dumbledore? Lupin? Anyone who could help us, anyone who could get to Harry in time to save him.. Anyone who could stop Ron from being so stupid. Ron walked in front of the tree, holding his hand in a 'stop' motion so I wouldn't rise. And he looked Lord Voldemort in the face as Harry had done. "I don't care what you do to me, just let her go, and I'll come without a fight. Let Harry go, you've finally won. He's dead. You killed him; your bloody prophecy came true. Just let them go, they're of no use to you now. Take me." "I'd rather give Harry Potter my blessing of honor than let that mudblood walk out of here alive." As Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at me, Ron screamed, terror lining his voice, "'MIONE!"  
  
I woke with a start, drenched in sweat. Every night I had that nightmare. Every night for the past 4 months I dreamt of the night that Ron had told me that he loved me. Of the night that Voldemort had returned. Of the night that Harry was paralyzed, and Voldemort had been finally killed. Harry was still in St. Mungos, but the Medi-Witches had high expectations for his recovery. At least he'd stopped screaming whenever he awoke. Ginny was fine. She was a trooper, that one. A night in St. Mungos and she was good as new, and ready to go back to Hogwarts. She was a local legend these days- The 18 year old witch who helped destroy Lord Voldemort! Ron... He as another story all together. "'Mione!" A loud tenor called, lined with worry, interrupting my train of thought. "You okay? I heard you from the other room; I thought you were crying, are you okay?"  
  
"I'm..." I stood, straightening my nightgown, "Fine." His red hair always made me laugh, it was tousled, that just-out-of-bed look that made even the most put together man look as though he was a child who didn't want to be awake. He crossed the room, and put a calloused hand on my shoulder "You sure, love?" I looked into his blue eyes, my heart breaking as I lied to him.  
"Yes, don't worry, I'll be fine." I smiled. "How's the report for the Ministry going?"  
  
"Great! The administration really respects all the work I've done abroad, now that LeBraun is well, they were more than happy to have me back." He laughed then, a musical sound of tinkling bells. "I think Fudge wants me as his personal assistant. Percy's ready to charm my desk, of course I'll never do that, it's such a thankless job."  
"That's great, lovey. It's so important to further yourself within the ministry, though."  
"So I've heard.. I can't imagine from who though..." He said, a grin playing at his lips.  
"Oh! Hush, you! It's important! Look where I am!"  
"Right, right, I know. Well, I'd better get going, Merlin forbid that I'm late for my 8:00 meeting with the minister."  
I bit my lip as he gave me a chaste kiss on the forehead and left the room, humming as he walked down the hall to leave for work. My heart leapt for a second, as I let myself believe that it was Ron's voice. That he was here, calling my name, keeping me safe. But it wasn't. It wasn't Ron's voice. It wasn't ever going to be Ron's again.  
I sat back down on the bed and looked out the window, watching Charlie's red hair glinting in the early morning's sunlight as he walked out onto the steps outside, waving back at me as I watched him walk down the driveway.  
  
Look at the sky baby  
  
What do you see?  
  
Looks like the tears that I cry  
  
Fallin' down like rain on the ground  
  
Every time you say goodbye  
  
Take a look around now  
  
Why don't you feel  
  
The way that cold wind stings and bites  
  
And your words just are like arrows through my heart  
  
Every time you say goodbye Sel's Disclaimers: I do not own any of the aforementioned characters, and any character that is not specified as being my own is owned by J.K. Rowling. And since I am a bit underage, I am not her, though I will accept bribes and gifts. The title of my story, "Love is a Battlefield" is a Pat Benatar song which I highly recommend. Again, I don't own any of the lyrics, and trademark and copywrite info isn't mine. But I'll still take gifts. The above song is "Every Time You Say Goodbye" by Alison Krauss. Don't own her lyrics either. Well, that's my first chapter, hope you weren't bored to bits and pieces. Review me, it makes me feel accomplished. 


	2. Bring On The Rain

Hi, my lovely and adoring fans. (Hey, everyone has a fantasy, let me have mine.) In this chapter, we have a POV change, because I have a very short attention span. If you don't like this, I'll go back to Hermione's point of view, but I plan on making each chapter different. If you hate that, I'll make it different.

Erica (whom I couldn't write this without) you'll note that the BLOODY QUESTION MARK IS THERE. So leave me alone. You're so amazing that I could just go on with this praise of your amazingness for hours, but my fingers would get cramped, and people might get a bit distracted from my story… Anyhow, I'm so sorry I accidentally deleted your shoutout in the first chapter (it's there in _my_ copy…) so just know that I love you. Also, the bit about the screaming watch is from her amazingful story Prince Charming, and I'd link you there if I had ANY idea how. Praise the OraNge.

_It's almost like the hard times circle 'round  
A couple drops and they all start coming down  
Yeah, I might feel defeated,   
I might hang my head  
I might be barely breathing - but I'm not dead  
Tomorrow's another day  
And I'm thirsty anyway  
So bring on the rain  
No, I'm not gonna let it get me down  
I'm not gonna cry  
And I'm not gonna lose any sleep tonight_

I stared at myself in the mirror, perfect as always. Who was I kidding? I was _far_ from perfect. The red hair that branded me as a Weasley all my life had faded to a dull auburn. The scar that I'd always bear on my thigh from having a Death Eater hurl glass at Harry, and having terrible aim. The tattoo I'd gotten after Voldemort's defeat in tribute to everyone who died- a tiny dove in white ink, faint, but beautiful in its own right.

No, I wasn't perfect, but I did look decent enough to venture outside my apartment for a lunch date with Hermione. She'd owled me at midnight last night - this morning, really - asking if I wanted to meet her at Agrippina's for a late lunch, and since she owled me at midnight, I could only assume this wasn't an ordinary meeting.

Hermione had been so distant lately; she wasn't herself at all. Once she was out of hospital, she became so reclusive; it was hard to tell that she had been discharged! In all truth, I was worried about her. Since she'd graduated Hogwarts she'd thrown herself into her work, and while that was very much like her, it was _unlike_ her to drop her friends. She refused to go out with us, citing, "I have so much work to do, I'll go with you next week," although _next week_ never came. She barely left her apartment, and the only one who ever saw her was Charlie.

In any event, this was a major event, not to be taken lightly. I walked out of the flat, muttered, "Oculto," and watched the door vanish. Turning on her heel, I walked down the street to Agrippina's to meet Hermione.

"Hermione!" I practically shrieked as I saw her waiting at a table in the back of the restaurant. "Your hair? It looks fantastic! How have you been?" she laughed, embracing me, and we sat down.

"Hi Gin, you like it? I needed a bit of change." She shook her head, her short, defined curls bounced off of her shoulders.

"It looks fantastic! I really like the layering; it's like nothing I've ever seen you wear before."

"Thanks, Gin. And nothing's new; I'm still living with Charlie."

"Oh really." I said, arching an eyebrow questioningly at her. She abruptly changed the topic away from him and blushed slightly crimson.

"Have you heard from your mum lately? I know that she and your father went to visit Bill in Egypt, but I haven't heard a thing from her since we had tea together."

"Oh, she probably just got caught up over there. Bill's still broken up over Hazel… something. You remember her, that blonde twit from Slytherin, mum and dad've been trying to get him out of that slump." I bit my lip, Bill deserved so much better than Hazel. Sure, she was gorgeous, but that was about all she had going for her.

She'd deliberately broken Bill's heart, because he wouldn't give her the address of the Burrow. I'd always thought she wasn't exactly the innocent face that she portrayed, but Bill had always brushed me off. It was terrible that he only believed me once he had been threatened with the Cruciatus curse. He kept trying to talk mum and dad into letting him visit her in Azkaban.

"Have you heard about Harry?" Hermione asked, interrupting my train of thought.

"I heard from Angelina this morning. Fred and Angie went to visit Harry yesterday. It isn't looking good for him." I ran a hand through my hair worriedly. Even these days, my heart still fluttered for him.

"Has Dr. Northwood said anything about him being permanently hurt? Could the hex have been misdiagnosed as short-term when it wasn't?" Hermione's voice sounded unusually strained, even for Miss Work-Until-You-Collapse-Then-Get-Up-And-Work-A-Bit-More.

"No, Hermione, they haven't said anything to that extent to us. I was planning on visiting him tomorrow, do you want to come?"

"I'd love to. I've been meaning to go for a week now, but I haven't brought myself to go… I hate seeing him like this, Gin."

I sighed, understanding how she felt. "I know, do I ever. I'm still holding onto what they said in the beginning, though, that he'd be okay in the end. All we can do now is hope."

_'Too bad that there isn't much of that left,' _I thought. I'd deliberately left out the rest of what Angie had told me about Harry's state. That he'd stopped responding to tests, that his heart rate was slowing down by the hour, that he didn't wake any more. If something drastic didn't happen soon, there was going to be a big problem.

I walked out of St. Mungos, looking as though I ought to have stayed there as a patient. Harry had never looked worse, Angelina had definitely underestimated.

Pale, gaunt, and comatose, I felt as though I was at a funeral parlor, which wasn't something any of us wanted to think about. Hermione had taken it surprisingly well. She'd taken charge, grabbed the first nurse she'd seen and threatened to hex her into oblivion unless she got some information, and there were no doubts in my mind that she would have.

Lucky for the poor nurse, Dr. Northwood had taken that moment to make her entrance. She'd told us that it was perfectly normal for a patient to experience some… regression with this type of an attack.

"For every three steps forward, there are two back." Those were her words. But it didn't seem like we'd gotten any farther, just that we were sliding backwards uncontrollably. Hermione had left after fifteen minutes, looking as though she was in mortal anguish. I couldn't blame her, though. I didn't want to see Harry in that state any more than I wanted to cut off my right arm and offer it to Malfoy as a token of my undying devotion.

Dr. Northwood had grabbed my arm on the way out and said, "Ms. Weasley-"

"Please call me Ginny. I've been here more than I've been at my flat these days, and it's not as if we're _strangers_." I thought back to the first time I'd encountered Dr. Northwood, in my sixth year, when Goyle had added Jobberknoll feathers to my test potion and landed me in St. Mungos, under Dr. Northwood's care.

"Ms.- Ginny... You have to understand that with such severe wounds as Mr. Potter has... well, he may never fully-"

"Wake up. That's what you mean, isn't it? He may never open his eyes again, never walk or fly or play Quidditch again. I understand, Doctor. Just do your best to save him. That's all I can ask."

I walked dazedly down the street, trying to estimate how long it would take me to apparate to Diagon Alley, and whether or not I'd splinch myself in the process. I felt my pockets for my wand so I could call the Knight bus, and found it in my back pocket.

_"You'll blow a buttock off like that, mark my words. Great wizards have done it; you don't want to be next."_ I remembered Moody saying that to me, way back when. I also remembered Tonks inhaling the cider she'd been drinking when he responded to my question of who it exactly was who'd lost a buttock, by saying in an offhand manner, "Me," and having to pound her back for twenty minutes so she didn't die.

I chuckled to myself, we'd all been so happy back then; Ron had fallen off his chair laughing and smashed his head on the table trying to get back up, Harry was looking out the window in mock fascination of Fred and George's game, shaking in silent laughter, and even my mother was chortling a bit at the idea.

My watch glowed red and started shrieking. Most people would be a bit perturbed by this, but I was used to it by now. I had never taken that watch off, since the day Harry had given it to me.

"GINEVRA WEASLEY GET OFF YOUR BUM RIGHT NOW, YOU KNOW BLOODY WELL THAT YOU HAVE TO MEET YOUR BROTHER FOR DINNER IN AN HOUR. YOU GO RIGHT NOW BEFORE THE WHOLE STREET HEARS ABOUT THE TIME YOU ACCIDENTALLY FL-" I closed the watch quickly and smiled innocently at the crowd of bystanders staring at me.

I raised my wand into the air and stepped back a few feet as the bus came roaring up to the curb.

"Hello Mizzus Weasley, do you need help with yer bags or are ya okay on yer own?" Oh yes, things were definitely back to usual.

_I opened my eyes sleepily to a knock on my door._

_"What do you want…? I mean, who is it?"_

_"Harry," the voice responded. My eyes got wide._

_"Harry? What are you doing here? What happened? Where are my manners, come in!" He walked into my room awkwardly; my heart skipped a beat at his slightly chagrined smile._

_"Nothing's going on, everything's fine. I just wanted to... You know, wish you a merry Christmas and to, ah, give you a present before everyone else got up." His hands were held behind his back, apparently holding a present. "This needs a bit of explaining, so I wanted you to open it more privately. I mean, if you want. I don't mind if you want to wait until later and open it with Ron and Hermio-"_

_"I don't mind at all, Harry." I saw him glance at me and quickly away. He handed me a small box wrapped in sparkling paper, the same emerald colour of his eyes, that was singing, "Deck the Halls," cheerfully._

_"Nice bit of magic on that, where did you get it?"_

_"Oh, you know. Here or there," he said, avoiding my eyes. I carefully unwrapped the box, putting the paper aside as I eyed Harry. _

_"You can sit down, you know, I don't bite...much. And that once was only because Ron stole my toy broom." He laughed; I brightened a bit, more awake. Not that I was glad that I made him laugh or found him attractive or wanted to lay him down on that bed and… No. I didn't. I pulled the top off of the box and gazed down at the exquisite silver watch. "Oh, Harry, it's gorgeous! I love it!"_

_"Now Gin, this is no ordinary watch. Whenever you set a meeting with someone while wearing this watch, it will store that time in its memory, and will remind you in an... unceremonious manner that you're late."_

_"Okay, Harry," I said, all the while staring at the watch. I took the watch out of its box and turned it over to peer at the mark on the back. "What is that?"_

_"Oh that?" He looked at the tiny symbol engraved on the back of the watch, "That's just the maker's trademark. C'mon, Gin, let's go wake up the lazybums; it is Christmas, after all!" He bounded out of the room, calling over his shoulder "You coming, Gin?"_

_"I'll get Hermione up, and meet you downstairs in forty-five," I responded. I took off toward Hermione's room. I tripped on the rug, and grabbed the doorframe to Hermione's room to regain balance._

_"Psst! 'Mione!__ Get up, this is really really important!" She tossed off the covers._

_"Like I wasn't awake after that LOVELY welcome you gave me, Twinkletoes. What's going on?" _

_"Was that a bit of sarcasm I hear? My, my, Hermione, we're finally getting some uncommon sense into you!" I jumped onto the foot of her bed and held out my hand for her to see. "Look! Aaaaaaah!" I squealed._

_"What am I looking at? Are you engaged?"_

_"No, you prat!__ Look at what Harry got me!" I rotated my wrist slowly._

_"Gin, that's lovely. And he gave that to you? Wow. Do you mind if I see it for a second, though?"_

_"Sure," I replied, unfastening the clasp. She stared at it hard for a minute, as if trying to remember something. Then she turned it over._

_"Oh, Gin. Oh Gin!"_

_"Uh oh.__ I never like sentences that start with 'Oh Gin…'"_

_"Gin, this watch belonged to Harry's parents."_

_"What!" I screeched, snatching it back, "How do you know? Why did he give it to me?"_

_"I know," she said calmly, taking it back, and pointing to the symbol on the back, "because of that. If you look at it, it's an intertwined JP. What are the initials of Harry's father?"_

_"James Potter. JP! Bloody Hell, and don't tell me to watch my language! Why- How- Who- Where?"_

_"What? What are you talking about?" Confusion lined her face; I wasn't used to seeing her so lost._

_"Where did he get it? From who? How? Why did he give it to me?" I asked. "You seem to know so much, enlighten me."_

_"Well," she said, repositioning herself on a pillow, "Dumbledore gave it to him, back in our sixth year. Apparently it went off in Professor Haberson's class… Don't look so lost, that's the Snape of their day, it got confiscated, given to Dumbledore, and they never remembered to go retrieve it. Dumbledore decided that Harry should have it to… What were his words? 'Give to the one you adore as your father did your mother, if you so desire.' And I guess he wanted you to have it." She finished, her eyes sparkling._

_"And what do you mean by, 'he wanted you to have it,' exactly?" I questioned, noting the sparkle in Hermione's eye._

_"Oh, nothing…" she smiled then. "Didn't I hear Loverboy scream something about meeting for presents?"_

_"Not unless you heard from Ron before I woke up." I retorted._

_"Oh, you are so in for it now," she threatened, advancing on me with a pillow._

I rummaged through my wardrobe, tossing dresses and robes on the floor in disgust. I couldn't wear the blue because it clashed with my necklace; couldn't wear the red because it clashed with my hair; couldn't wear the green because it clashed with Rick's 'blasé elegance.'

The only reason I was even going out with him was as a favor to Erica. She had a date with her beau, Tom, and needed to shove her really arrogant cousin off with someone. At least I learned my lesson about asking people with undesirable single relatives for favors.

I settled for a simple black dress and neutral makeup. Pulling it down in the back, since I didn't want to expose that much to the creep, I grabbed my purse and headed to the door, when I heard the crackle of fire coming from behind me. My mother stood in my fireplace. She always seemed to appear in my fireplace as I was leaving for a date, it's as though she had a new choice put on the clock stating _"Leaving for a date, so feel free to go and make her a few minutes late for no reason at all."_

"Muuuuuuuuum! I'm leaving for a _date_, okay? Remember, you told me to _date_ more? I'm _dating someone _and if I don't get out of here within the next ninety seconds I'll be late!"

"Ginny! Oh, Merlin…"

I turned on my heel, feeling my chest constrict like someone had punched me. "What is it, mum? Is everything okay? What's going on?"

"Harry's…" she stopped, bursting into tears.

"What happened? Is he-"

"Ginny, Harry's dying."


	3. You Can't Hurry Love

**A/N**: You are all so incredibly sexy it's b l i n d i n g . 3 Thank you for reading, and please review, if you liked it or not. It makes me a better writer. This chapter was so easy to write, it almost wrote its self. I have part of what would have been chapter 4 written already, except the story kind of took on a life of its own, and it is now probably chapter 5. Erica, thanks so incredibly much for everything. You're awesome, and everyone knows it, especially me. Thanks for all of your (not so, ha ha) loving help with this story. EVERYONE GO READ HER STORY! It's called Prince Charming, and it's a Lily/James fanfic.

**Leditor From the Editor**: LOOK!!! I get to have my very own leditor!! ::twirls:: This chapter is quite brilliant, as is the rest of the story. And the things Sel has in store for this...::shakes head:: Ya'll are in for a ride. Enjoy the chapter, let Sel know just how much you love it, and we'll get the next chapter out as soon as we can.   
The lovely ::cough:: editor of this lovely story,   
Erica Michelle OraNge Welling Potter Weasley. ::cough::

And you get major brownie points and a cookie if you know who Donaghin Tremlett is, and where I stumbled upon his name.

_Love don't come easy__  
__It's a game of give and take__  
__I can't hurry love, no, you'll just have to wait__  
__You gotta trust, give it time__  
__No matter how long it takes__  
  
__How many heartaches must I stand__  
__Before I find the love to let me live again?__  
__Right now the only thing that keeps me hanging on, __  
__When I feel my strength, yeah, it's almost gone_

{**Intro to Chapter 3**}

"What do you mean? How can he be... Be… Dying?" I stammered, as my stomach dropped through the basement. "I saw him yesterday, mum. **Yesterday**. And he was fine. He wasn't exactly Donaghin Tremlett, but he wasn't… He didn't look like he was-" I broke off my sentence, unable to even conceive the idea of him dying.

"Dr. Northwood sent an urgent owl to the burrow… Oh, Merlin, what am I going to do…" she paced around my living room aimlessly.

"What did it say?"

"It said… What does it matter what it said? I have to get over to the hospital… Do you have floo powder here?"

"_What did it say, mum_?" She turned to face me, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Ginny, if you know your mother at all, you should know that I have more important things to think about than what the letter said. Now are you going to tell me where the floo powder is, or will I have to go next door and find some?"

"It's in the cupboard… Mum... Someone has to tell- Oh, MERLIN! Hermione! Did you tell her? I'll go over there, she'll want to come to the hospital, and I have to owl Erica and explain what's going on…" I thrust the floo powder at her and ran for Ephiny, who hooted anxiously.

{**Chapter 3 – You Can't Hurry Love**}

I stood in my bathroom, staring into the mirror appraisingly as I brushed my hair.

"You'll never find a date staring into the mirror like Narcissus."

"Hush up, you!" I retorted. Ever since Fred and George had come to visit Charlie and me, the mirror had been back talking nonstop. I ran a hand through my hair, in an last ditch effort to tame it somehow. While I missed the feel of the long, wild hair of my younger years, I appreciated the simplicity of short hair, no matter how brutal it was to tame. But it would grow back, eventually, whether I missed it or not.

Hearing a knock at my window, I left the room, and turned off the light, amid shrieks of "What are you doing? Why did you turn out the lights on me? Where are you going?! WHAT'D I EVER DO TO YOU?!"

I glanced at the window, startled to notice that it was pouring, and I'd never noticed. Who would send an owl out in such atrocious weather?

Opening the window, I recognized the owl as Ephiny, Ginny's Boreal.

"Ephy, what're you doing here?" I murmured, more to myself than to Ephiny. I took the soaked page from her leg, and muttered a spell to dry it off. I could barely read her illegible scrawl. Tapping the brush against the banister, I skimmed quickly, feeling the world spin around me. Dropping the brush on the floor and shoving the letter in my back pocket, I ran up the stairs like I was on fire to get my cloak.

"What do you _mean_; you won't let me in to see him? Are you **_aware_** of whom you're talking to?" I shrieked at "E. Wright"

"Ma'am, I can't let you in. I wasn't given authorization to allow you up into that wing."

"WHOSE AUTHORIZATION DO YOU NEED?!" I screamed "I DON'T CARE **WHAT** I HAVE TO DO, YOU CAN BET THAT I WILL GET UP TO ROOM 4828 TO SEE HIM IF I HAVE TO CURSE YOU _AND_ EVERY WIZARD IN THIS WARD TO DO IT!"

As I tapped my foot, I heard heels clicking down the hallway. I turned to see who it was.

"Hermione! There you are! Where have you been?" Ginny stood before me.

"This… This… This _wizard_ won't let me up to see Harry. I'm not 'authorized' enough for him." I ranted.

"Mr…" She paused, reading the silver badge gleaming on his uniform, "Wright. Hermione Granger was authorized four hours ago. I'm sure that if you look on your SAIP sheet, it will mention her name. If you had looked a _half hour ago_, I'm sure that you wouldn't have wasted her time, or mine." She strode off, leaving an embarrassed and irritated guard in her wake.

"I'd like a badge with my name and what I am doing here on it. And I want it NOW." I said, pointing my wand at him.

"Right ma'am." He said, handing me a gleaming badge with my name on it.

"Are you going to tell me where I might find room 4828 or just sit there like the incompetent fool that you are?"

"First door on the right, ma'am." He replied, sneering slightly.

"You sneer at me again and your lips will be in a completely different section of your body. And that's not a threat; that's a promise." I said, striding down the hall.

I opened the door to Harry's room, bracing myself for the worst possible scenario; Harry dying before my eyes, hooked up to tubes and with wires surrounding him. What I saw was worse.

Fred and George and their respective fiancées, Angelina and Alicia, stood on the left side of his bed, looking as somber as I'd ever seen them. Bill, Percy and Penny were at the foot of the bed, Percy holding Penny's hand tightly, and Bill with a hand on Percy's shoulder. And on the right… Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, standing with Ginny and Remus Lupin. I walked into the room, gazing around at his family… My family.

Harry wasn't hooked up to an EKG, or a respirator. He wasn't hooked up to anything, really. He looked peaceful, sleeping blissfully. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and saw Percy beckoning for me to follow him into the hall.

"The doctors," his voice broke, and he tried again, "The doctors say that he's fallen into a- what do muggles call it? A coma. And that he's failing, his heart isn't as strong as it has been, as it needs to be… They think he'll die before tomorrow unless something drastic happens."

He turned and reentered the cold, whitewashed room, leaving me out in the hallway. I put a hand on my forehead, leaning against a wall; feeling like my world was spiraling dangerously towards the ground.

I heard a door swing open, and looked up into Ginny's face.

"Oh, Gin…" I said, not knowing what to say, for the first time in recent memory.

"I'm going to stay with him tonight… See if there's anything I can do… I studied this type if illness in school. Maybe there's something I can do…" she trailed off, clenching her fists. I gazed up at her.

"I'm staying." I replied, confidently standing up.

"No," she shook her head "you're not."

"Ginevra Rose Weasley, I am staying whether or not you approve of it, or whether or not you want me here, I'm staying."

"I know that, 'Mione. But I can't let you stay here tonight."

"Oh, really, Dr. Weasley?" I mocked her, knowing I was playing with fire. "I don't see how you're going to stop me." I crossed my arms, and stood defiantly.

"Don't do this, Hermione." She retorted, icily.

"How can I not?" I said, losing my patience. "My **brother** is in that room, Ginny. I love him and I am not leaving without knowing that he's going to be okay."

"Mione, you know I want you to stay. It's against St. Mungos policy, and would be breaking about fifty rules, and I can't do any healing with anyone who wasn't trained in the room; you know that. Do you want t compromise the only opportunity Harry might have?" she said, though I already knew I was fighting a losing battle.

"Fine. I won't stay, but you can bet I'll be back here if there's any change. And you owl me if there is any change, good or bad. Okay, Gin?" I said, trying to regain the upper hand.

"Mmm… Right, 'Mione. I'll do just that." She replied, looking at her watch. "I've got to run; I have to go do rounds. Tell everyone to go home, and tell Charlie that I love him, when he gets back from Ireland." She gave me a brief hug, and walked off down the hall.

I took a deep breath, and walked back into the room. While I wasn't a healer, I could determine several things about Harry. From the purple line hovering slightly over his head, I knew that his breathing was steady, but slow. The green line monitored his heartbeat, and the yellow line his brain signals. Both were erratic. I knew that wizard comas were extremely rare and were only brought on by trauma to both the heart and the lungs, and extreme mental anguish. While it wasn't irreversible, it was extremely trying on the body, and most wizards died before they awoke.

But Ginny was a very accomplished healer, and I had the utmost faith that if there was a way to save him, she knew it, and if there wasn't a way, she'd create one.

"Well, ah." Fred said, breaking the notable silence in the room that had made it feel somber and morbid, "George and I have to go, we have a new worker managing the store,"

"And she doesn't really have any idea of what she's doing, and we don't want her to open anything-" George paused.

"_Dangerous_." Angelina and Alicia finished simultaneously. I laughed, in spite of it all. They sounded like sisters themselves. Fred and George kissed Angie and Alicia, and Penny on the cheek, embraced Percy and Bill and hugged me tight.

"Don't worry, 'Mione." Fred muttered into my ear. "Gin's on this one, you can bet that she'll never let anything happen to Harry as long as she's breathing. It'll be fine." I kissed him on the cheek, hugged George, and they left.

As if Fred and George's departure had released a bit of tension, everyone started to talk at once.

"Hey! Everyone!" Mr. Weasley (I still thought of him that way, even after all these years.) said, gathering our attention. "I don't know about you all, but Molly and I are ravenous. Let's go to The Burrow for dinner." There was a general assent, and we all filed out of the room, glancing back at Harry.

"Adf fe fefd fdat fi zond dow whet ve fed." Bill said to Mr. Weasley, spraying Angelina with mashed potatoes. Angie belted Bill across the abdomen angrily.

"Fey! Whfd," he swallowed, "What was that for?!"

"You sprayed me with chewed mashed potatoes! That's so unsanitary!" she retorted, scourgifying herself. I picked at my food, not extremely hungry. Ginny hadn't owled, I was unsure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. As if reading my thoughts, an owl flew through the kitchens open window, and hovered around Mrs. Weasleys head.

"Hermione, there's a letter for you." She passed the letter down across the table, and the owl came and perched on my chair.

"_Hermione, Don't worry the whole house, but you need to come to St. Mungos RIGHT NOW. - Ginny"_

I turned white, and stood.

"I… Don't feel so good. I'm going to go back to my flat and take a nap… Thanks for dinner, Molly, it was wonderful." I said, and ran out of the room.


	4. A Great Disguise

**A/N**: Pauses "Cabaret" to write this Hi everyone. This chapter wasn't exactly easy to write... Harry got in the way of what needed to happen, in the beginning, but I took care of him, and then I wanted Erica to go back to her date, but that wouldn't work right... But you'll see about that later. After the hospital incident, it was all smooth sailing. The next chapter's going to be a killer, though, I warn you. Love and hugs –Sel

_People talking think I'm all right, think I'm doing fine  
Goin' through the motions of my life  
Go to work now every mornin' yeah I play the part  
And hide away the contents of my solemn heart  
But when the sun goes down and the moon is high  
I can't control the flood of all these tears inside  
And if they only knew they'd be so surprised  
I'm just a good pretender in a great disguise  
  
Keep 'em guessin' keep 'em laughin', build that wall up high  
As long as they don't see the other side  
You've really done it done a number, a number on my soul  
But I'll be damned if I'll ever let you know  
But when the sun goes down and the moon is high  
There's no way to hide the truth from me, myself, and I  
Yeah I wear it well though it ain't my size  
I'm just a good pretender in a great disguise_

Hermione ran down the hall in St. Mungos at full speed, pausing only as she skid on the wet marble of the floor, not even noticing the conversation occurring between the guard and me.

"Shouldn't you be checking her for identification, or is it standard practice for you to let anyone who pleases scamper down hallways unchecked and free to do as they please?" I questioned suspiciously.

"Do _you_ really want stop her and ask for I.D.?" He replied, chuckling slightly, "Because I sure don't. Besides, I recognize her. She gave me one hell of a hard time this morning, 'cause I wouldn't let her in to see Harry Potter, and that's probably where she's headed, dashing down that hallway."

"Ah. Okay, then Eddie, I'm gonna go try to catch up with her before she gets too far," I said, waving back over my shoulder and jogging down the hallway after her retreating form.

"Hey! Hermione! You mind not running, I'm in the **wrong** shape for this kind of physical exertion," I called at her back as she turned to face me.

"Erica Michelle Mitchells, how can you be in the wrong shape for anything? If I remember correctly, and I do, you were the only person that Wood cursed about in fourth year. In fifth year, you outran the entire Gryffindor team by three minutes. In sixth year you jogged for _fun_ and beat them by four minutes. And in seventh, you were the only person who was never once late to Care of Magical Creatures or Divination."

"Actually, it was seventh year that I outran them by four minutes. Still do jog for fun, as a matter of fact," I laughed, and embraced her. "It's been a while. Too long, what've you been doing, stranger?"

"Oh, this and that. I'm a jack of all trades, I suppose. I really would love to stay and chat, but Ginny owled me and-"

"That's what I'm here for. Jim Bergon wants an article about how our favorite Superhero is doing these days, and I didn't want to hand it off to someone who'd write a Rita Skeeter-esque article," I replied.

I hadn't seen Harry in over a year, but that didn't change how I felt for him. We had briefly dated in our sixth year, and he was a very good friend, in every sense of the word. While the friendship had been completely platonic ever since then, and we had no interest in making it anything but, I didn't want to see his name over the article entitled 'Harry Potter, Dangerous and Disturbed, and back in St. Mungos!'

"I did write Knocked Out By My Bludger... Now What Do I Do? with Riza Coleman, so she knows that I'm not going to scandalize everything," I continued with my explanation, "and I was at the World Cup last year when What's-His-Name knocked out Angie Johnson, though helping to hit people with bats might not be really handy with what Ginny had in mind... But she thought that I might be able to smooth all the media attention over, because now that he's awake-"

"He's... Harry's awake? Is that why she Owled me?" Hermione interrupted, brightening.

"I would assume so, because if it's not, she owes me some hell of an apology, I was on a **date**."

"Holy shit." She said, and resumed running down the hallway. I groaned, and followed her.

I walked into Harry's room behind Hermione.

"Slutmuffin." Ginny said somberly, addressing me.

"Bumpkin." I replied, just as gravely, before breaking out into a grin and hugging Ginny, who embraced me back.

"I don't want to know, do I?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Nope." Ginny and I replied.

"How is he?" Hermione asked, anxiously, as though she'd just remembered why she was there.

"He's doing better. He _can_ be awoken, of that we're sure, we just aren't sure _how_."

"What do you mean, you don't know how?" Hermione started pacing around the room.

"Well, that's why we brought Erica." Ginny walked over to Harry and changed a bandage on his head carefully.

"That's why you _what_?" I looked at her like she'd grown a third head.

"You heard me, Slutmuffin." She replied, smirking slightly, but never pausing in her work.

"And how do you presume I will be able to help you wake him up?" I stared at her incredulously. She had finally lost what was left of her fragile sanity. "I know I have such _extensive_ medical training and everything, but really, Gin. Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Shut up and stop being so _American_." She turned to face me, looking paler than usual, "You've worked with the world's leading expert in trauma, and you were there when Justice Pilliwickle awoke from his four year coma. If anyone in the room knows anything about comas, it's you."

"Then I guess we're fucked."

"Well, I'm wiped," Ginny said, wrapping a fresh bandage carefully around Harry's rapidly bleeding cheek.

"But we did a world of good; he even opened his eyes..." I trailed off, seeing the look that Ginny threw me. She really was peculiar around the subject of Harry.

"That really was some nice work, Ginny," Hermione remarked, as she washed her hands in the tiny sink, "I don't think I've seen such nice healing since my days at Hogwarts."

"Since when? The time you grew a tail or the time you turned yourself purple?" I asked, hiding a smile rather unsuccessfully.

"The time you turned yourself into Eric," she replied, drying her hands off, and smirking in a very un-Hermione fashion.

"Erica 0, Hermione 1," Ginny said, failing dreadfully at her attempt to turn a laugh into a hacking cough. I just glared at Ginny as if she was telling me that she's had a love child with Severus Snape.

"Well, guys," said Hermione, breaking the moment by walking across the room, "it's been fun, but I should go and explain why I just flew out of dinner with the Weasley's before they send the MLED after me," She crossed the room and nudged me in the ribs, "See you later, Slutmuffin."

"Absolutely. How could you ever stand to be away from my voluptuous and timeless beauty?" I replied, grinning in what I thought was a cheeky manner, but was probably just stupid.

She kissed Hermione on the cheek, and hugged Ginny, as she muttered, just loud enough for me to hear,

"And for your information, it's Hermione 2, Erica 0..." Ginny chuckled, putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder, and steering her out of the room. Hermione waved a last time, before walking down the hall, and vanishing.

I stared at Ginny as she walked around the room, straightening up and sanitizing equipment.

"Hey, Gin?" I asked, twisting my ring idly, "Do you want to come out to lunch with me, there are some unresolved issues that we really have to talk about. My treat."

"Sure, Ers', where do you want to go?" she asked, walking over to me.

"I know this really great place in Diagon Alley, Jesse's Bar and Grill, you ever heard of it?" she linked arms with me, and I opened the door.

"I'll try anything once," She replied, as we walked down the hall and aparated to Diagon Alley, "twice if I like it..."

"So, this is the famous Jesse's... I must say, I've never seen a décor so... original." Ginny remarked, looking around. The walls were plastered with muggle street signs from my old neighborhood; "Ocean Parkway, West 8th, Beaumont Street, New Jersey Turnpike, Brighton Beach..."

"Yeah, Jesse's from the States. He just couldn't bear to let go of New York when he came here, so he brought a piece back with him and made it the design for his restaurant. From what he's told me... Oh, there he is! Jess! Come over here, we've got a question for you."

I flagged down a broad shouldered man standing at the bar talking to a waitress, who walked over to our table. His sandy hair was long, creeping over the collar of his shirt, as it had been as long as I could remember.

"What'd'you want from my life, Erry? Unlike you, I have a business to run." He said, seriously, though his eyes showed the jest. He spoke with an accent quite like my own, but with a more New York flavor, since he had lived there longer than I.

"Jess, Ginny here had a question about your signs and how you got them." He gazed down at her with chocolate eyes, as if appraisingly her. It was a running joke between us, he'd had a penchant for stealing street signs as a youngster, and it apparently hadn't ever died down.

"Well, I can't leave a pretty lady wonderin', now can I?" I coughed, and stared daggers at him for being so forward, and he replied with a phrase that would make even Ron blush.

"These are all from the tri-state area, but you wouldn't know nothing 'bout that, would ya? The tri-state area is the area around New York; heard of that?" at Ginny's assent, he continued. "Well, Erica here and I used to live in New York, on the same block, ac'tually. Erica moved out here when she was... Oh, 13?" I nodded at him.

"And I moved out here a few years later. When I moved out here, I just couldn't live without a li'l piece of the Big Apple, so when I went back for my sister's wedding, I went and, er... Stumbled upon a few signs." He glanced quickly at me, and I chuckled a bit.

"It's not exactly... _Legal _to 'stumble upon' these signs." I replied to Ginny's questioning gaze, she nodded back at me, and resumed looking at Jesse, who took that as a sign to continue justifying his signs.

"And so when I started this restaurant, I d'cided to put my signs to good use," He stretched his arms out and gestured at the room, "and here we are." Ginny grinned at Jesse and placed her bag on the table beside her.

"Well that's rightly cool. I really like it; it's like being in... A museum" I laughed at that one, as did Jesse.

"You can tell she's not from the states. A museum!" he said, continuing to chuckle as he walked back towards the bar. We flipped through the menus, and chose appetizers and meals for each of us, and as the waiter bustled off to get our cocktails, I turned back to Ginny.

"Gin... I know we haven't been really... I don't know, open? About our relationships in the past few months, but there's some unfinished business that I think we need to deal with and let go of," I bit my lip slightly as she mulled my statement over.

"You're right," she finally replied, pulling at a strand of auburn hair. "There are some things we need to talk about; that we need to finish." The waiter came back with our drinks, and set them on the table. "Oh, and waiter?" Ginny said, as the waiter turned to leave, "You'd better bring us another round; I have the feeling that we'll be needing it."

"Gin, I won't beat around the bush," I said, sipping my margarita, "you and I both know that you have feelings for Harry-"

"What are you talking about!" she shrieked, attracting the attention of other diners, who stared at her. "I do not have feelings for Harry! How can you think that, I don't have ANY feelings towards him!" I gazed at her, looking at her eyes. She looked anywhere but at me. I knew that she was lying; hell, half the restaurant knew she was lying, but it wouldn't do a bit of good if she wouldn't admit that she had feelings for him.

"Ginny," I said gently, "I know that you don't think you have feelings for him, and maybe you don't," I raised a hand to quell her coming argument, "but that is not the issue I really want to talk about."

"Then what is it, Erica? Cut the crap and let's get down to it."

"Fine. I want to know what happened on Halloween. Since you allegedly, 'don't have feelings for him,' something must have happened that night, because, the last time we'd talked, you were madly in love."

"There is nothing to discuss," She folded her hands and picked at her salad absently.

"Like hell there isn't."

"You really want to know?" Ginny said, sharply. "Fine. It was October 31st and Harry and I were in the common room..."

"_Really, Gin, you shouldn't go to Hogsmead tonight." Harry said, looking at me, concern lining his eyes_

"_Why? You're going so it's safe enough for you, why isn't it safe enough for me?" I replied tersely._

"_Because you don't feel that well, and-"_

_I cut in, not letting him finish his thought. "Harry, I'm fine. It's just a little headache. I'll be fine after a butterbeer. Now unless there's a better reason for us not to go..." I said, letting my words punctuate the air that was thick with unspoken tension. _

"_It's not that, Ginny. I don't want to go to Hogsmead with..." He ran a hand through his raven locks, "Oh, hell, never mind. Are you ready?"_

"So we went to Hogsmead with Ron and Hermione, and after we met them for a drink, we went for a walk... to talk."

"_Ginny," Harry said, grabbing my elbow, "I think we should talk." I looked at him, he looked.... Pained. Like saying this hurt him._

"_Harry, what's wrong? What's going on? Is something wrong? Of course it is, but what? What do you know that I don't?"_

"_Ginny, I think you should go back to the castle." He said, kicking a rock down the gravel path as we walked._

"_Why? It's the first Hogsmead weekend; the first weekend we've been alone together in months. Why do you want me to go back to the castle? I want to spend time with you, not with everyone at that stupid Halloween ball, so that's completely out of the question, Harry."_

"_I... you shouldn't be here, Ginny. Go back to the castle."_

"_And what is that supposed to mean? That you don't want me here? Is that what you mean? If that's what you mean, that's just fine." I said, my voice surprising even me with its' anger as I turned on my heel and started walking backwards down the path._

"_Ginny, that's not what I meant!" he said, chasing after me. "I didn't mean it like that!"_

"_You get your hands off of me, Harry James Potter. That is what you meant, or you wouldn't have said it. But I'm going back to the castle, just like you wanted. I hope you're happy." I shook his hand off of my shoulder and walked back up the road to return to the castle._

"And then the Death Eaters came."

"_Well, well, what do we have here? Mr. Potter and... who is this? A Weasley love interest! How charming! I'm sure the Dark Lord will love a nice matched set. Two is better then one, isn't it?" The Death Eater in front of me said, the sneer in her voice distinguishable even with her mask on. I felt my stomach clench in fear; I couldn't even move._

"_Run, as soon as she diverts her attention away, Ginny. I can handle this myself. Go back to the castle and tell everyone what's happening. I'll be fine, just get out."_

"_I don't want your help, Harry," I said, icily, "I'm not afraid to go."_

"_I see you choose your romantic prospects on how brave they are in the face of true adversity, Potter," Bellatrix said, tapping a finger on her chin, "Oh, how that reminds me of someone... I can't place who, though."_

"_Let her go, Bellatrix, it's me you want. If you let her walk away, right now there won't be a problem with taking me. I've wanted another chat with Voldemort recently anyway," Harry said sardonically, stepping forward._

"_Oh, the courage you have, speaking the Dark Lord's name; or is that stupidity? Either way, it's simply precious! Widdle Potty-Wotty trying to save his girlfriend," She mocked, stepping towards us both, "It's a pity that it won't help you, though it is a sweet notion; as I remember, your father did something quite similar to save your mother. Like father, like son, hm, Potter?" Harry clenched his fists._

"_Don't you talk about my father."_

"_Oh? Or what? You're going to kill me? I thought we established that last time, Potter. You have to mean what you say, or it will accomplish nothing. Oh, I have an idea. How about we give you a reason to mean it? Let's give little Ginevra a taste of true pain. You don't mind, do you, Ginevra?" She laughed cruelly, and pointed her wand at me._

_Everything went midnight black. There was no now, there was no later, time stopped for that minute. Everything was burning pain and unobstructed darkness. I thought I could die from the pain, I wished I would, just so I could get it over with and let go of the pain. _

"And then Ron and Hermione showed up, and you know the rest..." Ginny finished, looking at my shocked face.

"Jesus, Gin, I had no idea. So what happened after that? Between you and Harry, I mean."

"Harry and I never spoke again," She replied, finishing her filet calmly.

"Uh huh. And you have no... openness to the idea of going back with him once he's out of the hospital?" I asked, tapping my nails against the table as I nodded to the waiter that I was finished.

"I have no feelings towards him, Erica. There is no idea of going back with him, now or ever." She twisted her pendant, unknowing that I remembered it as being one of her nervous habits. She twisted her pendant when she lied.

"Right, Ginny. That's why you gaze off into nothingness whenever one of us mentions him in passing, and why you look like you're going to die whenever you see a picture of him. No feelings whatsoever."

"That's right," She replied steadfastly, looking me in the eye.

"Ginny, I don't care how well you think you lie, but your disguise doesn't work with people who've known you for seven years, and who've known your nervous habits for as long. Stop twisting your necklace," She flushed crimson. I rose from the table, leaving a tip under my glass.

"Let's get out of here, I've got work tomorrow, bright and early, and I want to go drown that last margarita so I can drag myself out of bed in the morning," I said, digging around in my bag for my wand.

"Yeah, so do I, and I don't think Terry would be appreciative if I came in to work with a hangover. I'll see you next week?" she asked, pulling her wand out of her coat.

"Of course," after an exchange of farewells, we both aparated home.

Arriving at my flat, I opened the door and went into my bedroom, where an owl awaited me. It hooted anxiously, and flew at me, leg outstretched, with a red envelope attached to it.


	5. Seduces Me

_Everything you are  
Everything you'll be  
Touches the current of love  
So deep in me  
Every sigh in the night-  
__Every tear that you cry  
Seduces me  
  
All that I am;_

_All that I'll be  
Means nothing at all  
If you can't be with me  
Your most innocent kiss  
Or your sweetest caress  
Seduces me_

_I don't care about tomorrow  
I've given up on yesterday  
Here and now is all that matters_

I ran a hand through my hair, smoothing it down into place. I had to be the _epitome_ of a charming gentleman for this mission. If I successfully completed this task, my rank would be solidified, and I would have my choice of... playthings.

But this wouldn't be an average mission; it was the most pivotal mission I was ever likely to go on again. If it carried out properly, just as it was planned, not only would I have the key to unlocking the spell, but I would have the one thing I'd always desired. Or the one _person_.

I waved my wand lightly and a bell rang throughout the whole house, summoning my servant.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Myrick, sir. How can I help you, sir?"

I smirked. She'd never grown out of the name I'd adopted to prolong my alias' longevity, even once I assured her that she could refer to me again by my proper name. I rather liked it, and I planned to resume being Mr. Myrick tonight until I could reveal who I truly was.

"Get me my coat, Clytemnestra. I won't be returning until very late this evening."

"Why, sir?"

"Is it any of your business?" I replied icily, "If I wanted you to know, I would have told you." She scurried off to retrieve my coat from the upstairs closet. When she returned, I took it and spoke again, "Make sure that you have my bedroom prepared and that you have a dinner prepared for me." I put on the coat, and adjusted the collar.

"So sorry, sir, Clytemnestra meant no offense, sir. I will, sir, Clytemnestra will have it done, sir." Glancing in the mirror on my way out, I walked out of the house, as Clytemnestra closed the door in my wake.

Everything had been simple up until this point. Find out who could help us create the spell we needed and what she would need to perform the spell, find out where to find her, get what she needed. Now was the hard part of actually going to her, seducing her and making her... See the light...

I had found out from my contacts that she was one of the worlds greatest spell crafters, and that she kept in close contact with the 'Fantastic Three' as I referred to them. I hadn't seen her since my final year at Hogwarts, not that I minded terribly, although I'd heard she'd grown particularly voluptuous. I also knew that she was single, and wanted to settle down with someone, which boded well for my upcoming rendezvous.

It was simply a matter of convincing her of my sincerity. My sources told me that she would be at the Three Broomsticks tonight, as she always was on Monday nights. I tied the belt around my trench coat (They really do get a bad reputation, but I suppose I fit right in with the trench coat stereotype) and aparated with a loud crack.

I stood in the street outside the Three Broomsticks, staring at my dirty white boot. Typical of _this_ side of town to dirty my boots, but it couldn't be prevented. I walked into the three broomsticks and, after a cursory scan, sat down at the bar.

"What can I get ya?" A buxom blonde asked, walking down the length of the bar, her heels smacking the floor angrily.

"I'd like a glass of Chardonnay, thank you." I said, eyeing her figure appraisingly. She had a decent figure, for a bartender. She would have been an easy lay, if I hadn't other priorities. I'd have to keep her in mind for once my mission was over. The bartender served me, and walked back to the other end of the bar.

I skimmed the pub, looking for her. She wasn't here yet, but there was Bellatrix's daughter, Ananda, and her lover, Vincent Goyle sitting at the corner table. They made a rather fetching couple, a lovely pair of trolls.

The door swung open, and a figure walked in and over to the bar.

There she was, her hair gave her away quite easily. It was the same as it had always been, albeit somewhat shorter. She was talking to the bartender, which proved that she was a regular, since the bartender was talking back. She laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and then looked at me. I quickly looked away, not willing to go present myself so quickly, and suddenly became incredibly fascinated with my wine.

She always had been an annoying despoiler of intentions, and walked over to my end of the bar, and sat down next to me.

"Hi... Do I know you? I haven't ever seen you here before, but you look so familiar. I bet you get that a lot."

"I do. But I'm afraid we haven't met, how could I possibly forget a face as gorgeous as yours." I lied, staring her in the eye and flashing a charming smile. This could be the end to my mission, if she realized who I actually was...

"Oh, then I'm terribly sorry." She blushed a enchanting crimson. This wouldn't be so bad after all... and it looked like I was safe for now.

"Don't worry about it. So, ah... Do you come here often?"

"Yes, usually once a week, or so. One of my friends from school bartends here during the week." She gestured towards the bartender. "I went to Hogwarts with Eloise."I did a double take. She had certainly changed quite a bit since being the acne ridden teen I had last seen her as.

"Well, I'm certainly glad she does. May I buy you a drink?" I asked, fishing in my pocket for a galleon.

"Sure... I'll have a jack on the rocks."

"A whiskey drinker! Haven't met one of them in quite some time. Bartender, can this lovely lady have a jack on the rocks?" I placed the galleon on the bar, and the bartender put it in her pocket.

"Certainly, sir." She fixed the drink and set it down in front of the woman beside me.

"So, where did you go to school?" she asked me, sipping her drink.

"I was supposed to go to a school out of the country, but my family wanted me closer to home; I was supposed to take over the family business." I said, my expression speaking for me.

"I see. I attended Hogwarts."

"Yes, I remember. You told me before," I replied, "you knew Eloise."

"Oh... I forget what I tell people. I talk a lot, I usually tend to talk too much and then people think I know everything and that I'm too aggressive and I have control issues and then... See?"

"I do. But going back to your school; I've heard great things about Hogwarts. Was Professor Dumbledore as amazing as everyone makes him out to be? He seems like a smarmy old duffer, if you ask me."

"Oh, he really was amazing," she gushed, "he was always there when you needed him. It was like he knew everything that was going on everywhere. I remember one time when Harry and I-"

"Oh, did you know the famed Mr. Potter?" I interrupted, feigning interest.

"Yes, I knew him," she replied, her eyes turning slightly misty.

"Were you close?"

"Yes, we were- are- were very close. I'm sorry, but I don't remember your name," she laughed, trying to get away with her rapid change of subject. I smiled back at her, "and I don't remember if you even told me, if you did, I'm terribly sorry." She blushed a bit, and looked at her napkin.

"Don't worry about it. My name is Donovan. Donovan Myrick. And your name is?"

"Ginny. Ginny Weasley."

ERICA'S LEDITOR:

Heyyy, again. Bethchya didn't think it was Ginny did ya? Or maybe you did. Y'all have no idea what Sel's got in store for you. _I_ don't even know, which isn't too fair, if you think about it. ;-) But I _do_ know it's going to be amazing. After all, would you expect any less?

So this chapter was a slightly long time in coming, and I've got to apologize for taking nearly a week to write this note, and edit the chapter. But I know you guys think it's far more than worth it, and it is.

Love and gummie bears,

Eriiica.

Author's Note:

Hi. Sorry this took so long, I was at camp, and then life was difficult, and yeah. :pauses to correct the spelling of something in Erica's leditor (Hey, nobody's perfect, Sunshine.) Gotta love slimy little gits that try to sleep with out favorite redheaded woman. I think we shall have some shirtless!Ron or Harry in the next chapter... We'll see how it goes. :grin:

Love, hugs, and Hershey kisses

Sel


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